


Let Me Care For You

by Anonymouspotato



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Autistic Caleb Widogast, Caleb Widogast Deserves Nice Things, Caleb Widogast Gets A Hug, Caleb Widogast Needs a Hug, Caleb Widogast is a Mess, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jester Lavorre is a Ray of Sunshine, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stimming, Written platonic but can be shippy if you want it to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 06:24:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21114191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymouspotato/pseuds/Anonymouspotato
Summary: Caleb’s playing with her tail again





	Let Me Care For You

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for normal Caleb-Related angst things. Take care of yourselves, everyone.

Caleb was playing with her tail again.

He’d been doing that more often, recently. Reaching down slightly to grab the end and circle it with his thumb when the people they were negotiating with started to get suspicious. Gently weaving it through his fingers with one hand while the other furiously scribbled in his spellbook. Tracing the little metal band over and over and over as he fell asleep. 

Jester thought it might be just one of his funny little tics at this point-like the way he covered his ears with his coat in noisy places, or how he pettted Frumpkin when the presence of others got too much for him. He refused to talk about it with them, because he was Caleb, but the others were always on the lookout for the point when ‘nervous-figiting’ became ‘aggressive-figiting’.

Right now, he was nervous-figiting with her tail, and leaning against the side of the cart, muttering to himself as he read a book he picked up last time they stopped. Jester scootched over to read the contents-some dry book on magical theory. She crinkled her nose.

Caleb must have seen her out of the corner of his eye, because his head shot up, and he pulled his hand away from her tail sharply, like it had stung him. “O-oh! Jester, I, uh...I’m sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, tugging slightly on his ponytail. “I’ll stop.”

“Stop what? Reading?” Jester knew perfectly well what he was talking about, but she  _ also  _ knew he needed to talk this out.

“No. I meant...ah...well…” Caleb gestured vaguely at her tail with his hand. “ _ That. _ I’ll stop that.”

She pursed her lips. “I don’t mind.”

“Please don’t lie on my account, Jester.”

“ _ Cayleb.” _ She smiled. “I’m not. You do what makes you happy, okay? You could use some happy.”

He opened his mouth, probably to argue again, but Jester fixed him with her most disapproving stare, and he shrank back into himself. “ _ Ja. _ Okay. Danke, Jester.”

She leaned against him slightly, affectionately nudging his shoulder, and loosely wrapped her tail around his wrist. Caleb stiffly twisted it around his fingers, but after a few seconds, he loosened up a little, gently weaving it into elegant patterns as he read from his book. Jester smiled reached into her back, and pulled out Tusk Love, rereading a particularly juicy bit.

After some time, as the sun got lower and lower in the sky, and dinner was passed around, Caleb gently slipped a leaf into his book to mark his place, and handed Caduceus a small jug with some kind of arcane sigil on the side. Jester’s tail never fully slipped from his grip. “Here. It’s full of tea, but the magic keeps it warm. I thought you’d like it, since you have to drive all night.

Caduceus’s large hand gently took the jug and brought it to his lips. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Mister Caleb.” 

He smiled softly, and looked at his lap before making up his mind about something. Slowly, mechanically, he leaned over onto Jester, kneading at the fabric of his pants. “Is...is this okay?”

Jester smiled. “Of course, Cayleb. Sweet dreams.”

His breathing slowed. “Ja. Sweet dreams, Jester.”

_ The first thing was the heat. That was always the first thing. _

_ The heat beat down on Bren’s face in wave after wave as his hands fell to his sides. He stared up as the jewel-toned flames, watching them climb up the sides of his house, burning wood and furniture and memories to soot. _

_ The memories were lies. The false kindness of traitors.  _

_ Astrid gave his shoulder a squeeze. Eodwulf crossed his arms. “We should go. Master Ikithon will be waiting for us.” _

_ He spoke in Common. Not Zemnian. Zemnian was the language of the traitors. Not them. _

_ The flames had reached the second floor. The smoke was blotting out the starry sky. And then the screaming started. _

_ Una screaming, Leofric screaming, screaming, screaming. Shouting, crying in Zemnian he didn’t want to understand but did. “What happened? We need to go! Leofric, don’t!” _

_ His father’s screams crescendoed, and died. His mother’s continued. _

_ Someone-Astrid?-tried to tug him away. “Bren. We need to go.”  _

_ Bren fell to his knees. Vater was dead. Mutter was dying. He had killed them. Killedthemkilledthemkilledthemkilledthemimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry Mutter stopped screaming. _

They were dead. He had killed them.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Cayleb? Are you alright?”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


A hand on his face. Cool. Gentle. He doesn’t deserve it.

  
  
  
  
  
  


“It’s okay, Cayleb. It wasn’t you.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It was.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Something’s in his palm. Cool and long and smooth.

  
  
  


He wraps his fingers around it and squeezes.

  
  
  


The hand on his face moves. It brushes the hair out of his eyes. Why is it so  _ tender? _

  
  
  
  


He runs his fingers through the thing in his palm. Over under over under.

  
  
  
  
  


The hand has returned to his face, is lifting away drops of wetness. He wants it,  _ craves  _ it, but he shouldn’t. He is broken and wretched and filthy, and he ruins every kind thing that he touches.

  
  
  


He tugs his hand at the tail-it’s a tail-in his palm. 

  
  


A croak rises from his throat-an apology, a plea, a warning. It’s too much and not enough.

  
  


A second hand joins the first, on the other side of his face. “Shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay.

The last thread of his resistance breaks, and he collapses forward into the touch. Her sweet, light hands gently pet his hair, and he wails into her shoulder. Like a small, pathetic child. “I...I’m…”

He couldn’t get the other words out. She didn’t seem to care, even though she should’ve, should’ve punished him for not finding the strength in his tongue and his heart. Her hands continued to weave across his scalp as his wove through her tail. “It’s okay, Cayleb. Just breath.”

  
  


He can feel his fingers again, not just the thick blue tail whipping through them like a wire. Then his wrists. Then his elbows. Slowly but surely, he pieced himself back together. When Caleb’s mind finally settled back into his body, he found it kneeling, leaning forward into Jester’s shoulder, gripping her tail with a white-knuckled grip that  _ had _ to be hurting her, and bawling his eyes out. 

“I...Sorry. Jester, can’t.”

“It’s okay, Cayleb. Just breath. You’re going to be fine.”

He looked down at his lap-her gaze almost pierced him, even with how soft it was-and watched her tail turn purplish and twitch under his grip. His fingers pried themselves away, but miraculously, she didn’t immediantly pull away. Instead, her tail limply trailed down the side of his hand and loosely wrapped around his wrist. “Danke sheine.” He murmered.

Jester gently patted him twice on top of his head, and settled in next to him. “It’s okay, Cayleb. You’re okay.”

He’s not. He knows this. He needs help, a lot of help, if he wants to be okay (he does, he really, really does), and even with it, he might never be  _ okay _ okay. Not like he was Before.

Jester’s tail adjusted itself on his wrist as she fell asleep. He gently rubbed the end of the tail, and his eyes drifted close.

Caleb had no more dreams that night. And for now, that was okay enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this word vomit! I hope you enjoyed it. All comments and criticism are welcome!


End file.
